


The Secret Life Of Lawyers

by Closer



Series: Pizza-Verse [2]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Pizza, more dorky movie quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-10
Updated: 2011-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Closer/pseuds/Closer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna's view of the events of Pizza And A Movie: introducing Harvey to Rollo's, rescuing him from poor relationship choices, uncovering the mystery of the Pizza Guy, and protecting Mike Ross from those who would do him ill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a "side-quel" to Pizza And A Movie, an AU where Harvey is still a lawyer but Mike is his pizza delivery guy. I was [prompted](http://suitsmeme.livejournal.com/2038.html?thread=3946486#t3946486) to do a version of the story from Donna's point of view, and I do love me some Donna. So here is a new, alternate version of Pizza And A Movie.

Donna was the one who introduced Harvey to Rollo's Pizza And Ribs, and thus she took credit for being the source of all of Harvey's happiness in life. She wasn't in doubt before, but it was nice to have solid evidence she could one day use against him.

Back when they were working for the DA's office, around the time Harvey started suspecting things and Cameron started getting sloppy (and would not stop making subtle passes at her, God, what a creep) and it was all going to shit, she decided desperate measures were required.

She'd gotten into the habit, on really bad days, of running down the block to Rollo's to pick up a meatball grinder for lunch. On one particular day, she glanced at Harvey, working in his closet of an office, looking weary and upset, and added a small pepperoni and sausage pizza to her usual order. She didn't know what he liked on pizza, but Harvey liked meat, so...

When she brought it back, she set it down on his desk and said, "This is a bribe."

"Cheap pizza?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Bite your tongue, Harvey Specter," she answered, feigning shock. He sighed but sat back from his paperwork.

"What are your terms?"

"I want to talk to you for ten minutes, and I want you to stop every time you feel defensive and take a bite of pizza and listen to me," she said. "Try some."

Harvey lifted the lid of the little box and took out a slice, tasting one edge of it cautiously.

"Oh my _God_ ," he said, looking up at her. "Where did you get this? It's amazing."

"Ten minutes."

"Deal."

She took the ten minutes (more like two hours, by the time they were finished) and told him what she hadn't been able to before: that Cameron was a bad man, that he was doing bad things, and that she wanted out. Even so, even given his suspicions, Harvey might not have listened -- but she told him about Cameron's last conversation with her, and how uncomfortable she was starting to feel.

So they made a plan, and Harvey made a phone call.

To the rest of the world it looked like Harvey got an offer from Pearson Hardman, sold out, and seduced her away with promises of better pay. To Cameron, it looked like Harvey caught him doing something naughty, got sulky about it, took his toy and went home.

In reality, Harvey had needed hard proof; it was Donna who took him away, Donna who got them both out. Harvey just happened to have a place for them to go once they left.

Score one for Rollo's pizza.

But Donna was not one to let go of an advantage, and the name of the best pizza place in Manhattan was a bartering chip. Rollo's didn't brand their pizza boxes, so Harvey had no idea who they were; for the first few months they were at Pearson Hardman he'd just stop and ask her, _can you get us some food from that place, you know the one?_

She was out sick the day Harvey had the epiphany that he had no idea where his food was coming from, because he couldn't ask her to order it. And, from that day forward, he spent considerable energy pestering her for a name, a phone number, a _hint_. Anything.

Donna just smiled and ordered his mushroom pizza and her meatball grinder and sometimes a side of ribs.

The day Harvey made Senior Partner, she presented him with a thin box wrapped in very expensive paper. He looked at it, looked at her, made sure nobody was watching, and then ripped into it like a child. When he lifted the lid on the box, he frowned.

She watched gleefully as he reached in, took out the Rollo's Pizza And Ribs menu (delivery area highlighted, so he'd know he could get it delivered to his home), and then looked up at her.

"The place?" he asked.

"The place," she confirmed.

In a rare display of his total goofball side, he then hugged her and offered to treat her to the best pizza in town. He even ordered it himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Here is a list of things Donna knows about Harvey Specter (condensed for relevance):

\-- He likes fine food. He has a developed palate and he's knowledgeable about these things. But sometimes even Harvey has to admit what he really wants is pizza from Rollo's. He's never developed a taste for their grinders, though, because the bread always ends up soggy with pizza sauce (this is why Donna likes them).

\-- He likes mushrooms and onions on his pizza, but only gets the onions if he knows he won't have to impress anyone before he has the chance to brush his teeth.

\-- He really, really doesn't like soggy fries.

\-- When they were at the DA's office Harvey had a dreadfully traumatic crush on one of the other ADAs. Donna was the only one who seemed to see it, but it was traumatic because the other guy didn't have any interest in him or even notice and Harvey, who otherwise was a rational human being, got stuttery and incompetent around him. Aside from Cameron, nobody put Harvey that much off his game. He didn't have that problem around women he was attracted to, and Donna had seen him take a lot of women home over the two years he worked there, so she assumed the nervousness was a result of having the occasional stray bisexual moment in an otherwise heterosexual life. She's never told him she knows he's a little bit gay, but she's pretty sure he knows she knows.

\-- Harvey secretly sees himself as a gentleman in the Victorian sense: courteous, stylish, educated, witty...and duty-bound to rescue people who are in trouble even if they have told him flat-out they do not need rescuing. Over the years he's grown more subtle about it, so that he never looks like he's saving anyone, but he still does it all the time. Donna can't count the number of strays he's taken in, cleaned up, and sent off to good forever-homes. (Metaphorically, since:)

\-- Harvey doesn't like dogs. Who doesn't like dogs? He's such a freak sometimes.

\-- The first thing he did with the signing bonus and new, obscenely high salary from Pearson Hardman when he joined the firm was put a down payment on a condo he had clearly been daydreaming about for a long time. For the first six months he lived there he had almost no furniture and lived on cheap student food while he overpaid his mortgage each month to try and get it paid off as soon as possible, to make it somewhere he _owned_. Sometimes Donna wonders what kind of life Harvey had growing up (not as elegant or monied as he wants people to think, that's for sure) that a stable home, a place he will never have to leave, is so very important to him.

\-- There's something new going on with Harvey, and it's not just because he's made Senior Partner. There's something mysterious affecting his life, and Donna just hates to be left out of anything. She deals in office politics all the time, but not at the level of the Partners, and therefore Harvey is her own personal soap opera. She must know what new storyline is being introduced.


	3. Chapter 3

The first time Donna heard about the Pizza Guy was the day that Harvey signed Tom Keller, which was a giant coup for him against Louis, who'd been stalking Keller for ages.

"Tell me," she said, when they were both in a booth at an extremely upscale bistro where Donna could never afford to eat on her own (and where Harvey made a point of taking her at least once every few months, see: "Harvey thinks he's a Victorian Gentleman"). "Tell me every sordid, terrible detail. Did you debase yourself? Did you beg?"

Harvey grinned. "Now Donna, nice boys don't kiss and tell."

"I wouldn't know, I've never met one," she told him. "Spill. Louis is saying you must have gotten high with him."

"He blazed up on my terrace," Harvey said, looking slightly annoyed. "But no."

"So?"

"So he came to my place to watch the game, because I told him I know the best pizza joint in town," Harvey said. "I'm shocked, by the way, that a stoner is tempted by trashy pizza. He says to me, I didn't know you liked Pie Pub, seems kind of downscale for you."

"Ohh, no, Pie Pub had its chance," Donna groans. "I got food poisoning twice from them."

"I told him I knew somewhere better, and bet him a contract with the firm that I could prove it." He sat back, sipping his wine. "He said if we got any kind of hot pizza on a Friday night, he'd be stunned."

"You already placed the order," Donna guessed.

"Nope. I know one of the delivery guys at Rollo's. I asked him if he'd bump me to the front of the line."

"How much did you offer him?"

Harvey considered his wine. "That's the thing. I would have, but he just said he'd take care of it and I'd better tip him big, and hung up."

"Well, we've brought them a lot of business over the years."

Harvey smiled. "He's a nice kid. Anyway, the pizza was hot, Tom was impressed, I win again."

"You're like a Saturday-morning-cartoon superhero," she told him. "And I am having the lobster ravioli appetizer."

She didn't really think much about it at the time. So Harvey knew a guy. Donna herself was master of the I Know A Guy game, and she was paying more attention to Harvey's progress in picking up the sommelier. She wasn't personally impressed by his skills, but it was fun to watch him work.

It was a week later, maybe a little more, when Harvey walked into the office one morning after taking a box of files home with him to do work his associate Kyle really should be doing (except Kyle was an idiot when it came to this kind of work) and announced, "I own his ass."

"Darling, how fabulous," she said. Harvey gave her a look. "Okay, what's the story?"

"The duplicate document isn't duplicate and three key facts out of five hundred don't check out," Harvey said. "Our client's lying to us. And now I own him. And he's going to do exactly what I say."

"You got through both documents in a single night? And did the fact checking?"

"I had help," he said. She blinked.

"Did you pick up a trained proofreader in a bar or something?"

Harvey glanced around, then leaned on her desk. "My pizza guy. It turns out he's a baby lawyer."

"You got your pizza guy to fact-check your research," she said slowly.

"Baby lawyer. He offered. I checked his work, it was fine," Harvey added, looking annoyed at her skepticism as he swept past into his office.

"Well, I hope you tipped him."

"I'm going to. Call the client, tell him I own him and he should be here by eleven."

She put _pizza guy is baby lawyer_ down in a mental note, tucked it away, and ignored it.


	4. Chapter 4

Donna didn't actually hear Mike's version of Harvey's stalker drama until long after the fact (over drinks with Mike one evening, Harvey absent, the two of them gossipping shamelessly) but it would have been irrelevant at the time, anyway.

She got the call on a Saturday morning, during brunch with her boyfriend at her place. He was just rolling the breakfast burritos when Harvey's ringtone went on her phone.

"Bossman?" her boyfriend asked. Donna nodded and answered.

"I'm billing you for overtime," she said. There was a pause. "Harvey?"

"That's okay," Harvey said, sounding...off. "I need a favor."

"I told you the Benson filings can wait until -- "

"Personal favor."

Donna sighed, eyed the handsome man making her breakfast, and asked, "Okay, what is it?"

"I'm at the hospital, and they won't let me go home unless I have a ride. I'm not allowed to take a cab. Can you come pick me up?"

She was about to tell him to call Ray and stop being such a demanding child when her brain caught up with her mouth.

"You're at the _hospital?_ " she asked. "What happened?"

"It's nothing, I didn't even need stitches," he said, and then fell silent. Donna began searching for her keys and tossing things in her purse -- wallet, emergency cash stash from the kitchen drawer, lipstick.

"Harvey, what's going on?" she asked.

"Look, if you can't come, can you call Jessica? I can't remember her number."

Jessica's number was in Harvey's phone. Under _Jessica_.

"Hey, wait, speed dial," Harvey muttered. "It's fine, I got it -- "

"Harvey, no," Donna said firmly. "What hospital?"

"The emergency room."

"What _hospital_?"

"Oh, uh -- " Harvey's voice tapered off and she could hear him ask, _Excuse me, where am I?_ "St. Luke's."

"Okay, I'm on my way. Harvey, do not use speed dial," she said, thinking of all the very high-powered, very easily-annoyed people on Harvey's speed dial. "Hang up and then put the telephone down, okay?"

"Sure," Harvey said, and her phone gave an end-of-call beep.

"Baby, I have to go," she said, kissing her boyfriend on the cheek. "Bossman's in the hospital, I think he's high."

He handed her one of the burritos. "Eat only at red lights."

When she got to the hospital, she asked for Harvey Specter and a cop inside the emergency room hallway stopped her.

"ID," he said. She blinked at him. "Sorry. Sensitive case, guy's a bigwig. I need to see some ID."

She shoved her driver's license into his hands, waited while he studied it, then brushed past him.

Harvey was sitting on a bed in an exam cubicle, legs hanging off the side, a bandage wrapped around his chest and spotted with blood. He smiled when he saw her.

"You're my hero," he said.

"I know," she replied. "What did you do to yourself?"

He looked down at the bandage. "Make really poor relationship choices?" he offered.

"What, some jealous boyfriend knifed you?"

His brow creased. "She has a _boyfriend_ too?"

"What?"

"I think they gave me a lot of painkiller," Harvey said meekly.

"Okay, let's start over." Donna inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Harvey, who did this to you?"

"Lara. I was dumping her," Harvey said, as if he were working through a particularly complex legal issue, "and she was cutting a grapefruit. I told the police this already."

"Your date stabbed you with a grapefruit knife?"

"It's not very serious." Harvey rubbed idly at the bandage.

"Where is she now?" Donna asked, because at heart she was a solver of problems.

"Probably...some precinct," he said. "I called the police. After I punched her. But that was after she tried to stab me," he added, wearily, as if he'd also explained this multiple times. Which he probably had -- generally, she knew, when cops saw a bleeding man and a woman with a shiner on her jaw, they made the statistically more likely assumption that he'd hit first.

She gave up on trying to get an explanation from him as to what had happened, and instead worked on getting him discharged. On ten milligrams of Vicodin, Harvey was obedient, just not very coherent, presenting a compelling portrait of what an alternate world "dumb but pretty" Harvey would be like.

She did manage to get the full story out of him by the time they were walking (Harvey slouching, a rare sight) into his condo. Some crazy woman had decided they were made for each other and, when Harvey disagreed, swung at him with the knife she'd been using to cut a grapefruit (now lying, slowly desiccating, on the kitchen counter). He'd punched her and called the police. Who had, at first, been suspicious, but had eventually arrested her and sent him to the hospital, where they'd way overdosed him on Vicodin, in Donna's opinion, and then told him he couldn't leave without grownup supervision.

There was blood on the kitchen floor. Donna resolutely didn't look at it, or at the rumpled, unmade bed in Harvey's bedroom as she pulled a blanket off it and brought it to him in the living room.

"I'm good," he said, standing in the middle of the room, holding the blanket like he wasn't sure what to do with it. "You can go, I mean, it's Saturday."

He peered at her like he wasn't sure why she was here in the first place.

"Or," she said, "you could sit down on the couch with your nice blanket and we'll watch a movie."

His frown deepened. "Why?"

Donna put her hands on her hips. "Because I said so."

Harvey twisted to look at the couch, then winced. "Okay."

He fell asleep quickly, which was what she'd been hoping for, but just as quickly he started awake; eyes wide, chest heaving, trying to stretch his way out of the pain his deep breaths caused.

"Harvey," she said, quietly. "It's okay. You're at home. Nobody else is here, just you and me."

He looked at her, nodded, and settled back again, his breath slowing. In a few minutes he was asleep again.

She spent most of the day there; the pattern kept repeating itself, though he slept longer each time, which was reassuring. His building had a cleaning service, and she called them to discreetly scrub up the blood and change the sheets on Harvey's bed. She ate lunch while he slept. She called her boyfriend, who made understanding noises with an edge of impatience for her boss, who already demanded way more of her time than he liked. She called her mom and had a quiet little tiny breakdown in Harvey's office.

As the day wore on and the light slid through Harvey's windows, he seemed more coherent, less freaked out, though that was probably just the drugs working their way out of his system.

"I owe you," he said finally, after she hung up from ordering dinner. She sat down on the couch, facing him, and sipped some of his very expensive booze.

"Don't worry about it," she said, which surprised them both, because normally she'd just say _Yeah you do_ or _I'm adding it to your tab._

"You can go home," he said. "I'm okay."

She studied him over the rim of the glass. "Harvey, can I tell you a story?"

"I'm not _five._ "

"It's a grownup story," she assured him. He looked annoyed, but he didn't say anything. She set her drink down. "The first time my sister's husband hit her, they'd been married for six months."

His eyebrows drew together, but he didn't interrupt, so she continued.

"The second time he did it, she packed a suitcase after he fell asleep and crashed at my place," she continued. "She didn't call the police, because she was embarrassed. She just came over and we sat up all night and she cried a lot."

"That's not like this," Harvey muttered.

"No, true," she said. "But it's not completely dissimilar. Were you scared, Harvey?"

"No," he said.

" _Your mouth says no, but your eyes say_ \-- "

"M. Butterfly?" he asked. "That's your argument?"

She shrugged. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Harvey looked away.

"So you got attacked, and you called the cops, and they didn't believe you. And then when they did, they sent you away in an ambulance and you didn't know where you were. You don't think anyone would be freaked out?"

"We handled assault cases for the DA's office, Donna," he reminded her. "I know what trauma looks like."

"Do you know what trauma _feels_ like?"

He gave her a half-grin. "I guess I do now."

"Harvey -- "

"It's not a big deal."

"My point is, if you want me to stay here with you, I've done this before," she said. "I'm not a nurturer by inclination, but I fake it pretty well."

"Look, don't take this the wrong way," he said, slowly, "because I appreciate it. But I'd rather have the place to myself for tonight."

"Can I wait until the pizza gets here?" Donna asked.

He smiled outright at that. "Rollo's?"

"Where else?"

"Yeah," he said, and lifted an arm gingerly. She took the hint and curled up under it, careful of his ribs, and they stayed that way until there was a knock on the door.

(Mike didn't deliver that time. Donna remembered being disappointed that the delivery driver was a woman, and not Harvey's baby-lawyer-pizza-guy.)

Harvey seemed to want to let it go so she followed his lead, going home after dinner and restraining herself from texting to make sure he was okay. She didn't see him again until Monday morning, when he seemed fine -- a little stiff, a little tired, but functional. He gave her paperwork to file against this woman, Lara, and told her to notify security not to let her up if she came around, but after that he didn't mention it for a couple of weeks.

"News of the nutjob," he said one morning, and Donna raised an eyebrow. "My restraining order went after my pizza guy."

"What?" she asked.

"Lara. She searched out the delivery driver because she thought he was sleeping with me."

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, she didn't try anything with a pizza cutter. Just gave him a speech about interfering with our relationship. She called him a twink with a pizza box."

" _Wow_ ," Donna said gleefully. "The crazy doesn't end. When did this happen?"

"Weeks ago. He's been avoiding taking my deliveries because she told him to back off."

"So she thought you were sleeping with him? How does that figure?"

Harvey shrugged. "It's pretty common -- all we do is joke around, but I guess it comes across as more. Women dig on it, I don't know."

"Is he cute?"

"How would I know that?" he asked, a little irritably, and walked away, effectively ending her interrogation.

He didn't date for a while after the Incident. Donna had ways of knowing these things.

She wasn't crazy about Dana Scott, because she felt like Scotty and Harvey were playing a perilous decade-long game with each other (she would never divulge her sources re: how she knew they were the ultimate mutual booty-call) and Donna was very protective of Harvey. Still, she had to give Scotty props for getting Harvey back out there after the Incident.

 _Donna_ knew Scotty was working the hotel merger that Harvey was managing for one of their clients. If she didn't warn Harvey in advance, well, sometimes the boy needed a surprise or two. When Harvey came back after the initial meet smelling faintly of perfume and sex, Donna couldn't resist.

"How'd the negotiation go?" she asked, and lowered her voice sexily. "You come out on top?"

"Why didn't you tell me Scotty was opposing counsel?" Harvey asked, but he was working really hard not to look all afterglow-y.

"Because I didn't want you to have performance anxiety! About the case -- she's tough," Donna said.

"You're obvious," Harvey told her.

"Your fly's unzipped."

Harvey didn't even _start_ to look down. "No it isn't."

"But it was earlier today," she said, and held up her hand for a high five.

Harvey didn't fall for it, and he kept being cranky, but Donna could tell it was an act.

"You know," she said, a few days later, when the merger was done and Harvey was once again treating her to outrageously decadent dinner at the bistro, "she might have screwed you midway through, but you can't deny she got your groove back."

"She got -- did you seriously just -- " Harvey put his fork down. "Okay first of all, my groove never left."

"Your groove was in Paris having fun without you."

"Secondly, what is this, the nineties? My _groove_?"

" _Oooh, boy, I love you so, never ever ever gonna let you go,_ " Donna sang. Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Enough with the soundtrack," he said. "We had a good time. That's what me and Scotty _do_."

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Donna asked.

"You know what my pizza guy said when he saw her?"

"You ordered her a pizza?"

"She suggested it!"

Donna rolled her eyes. "What did your pizza guy say, Harvey?"

"He said, _Do or do not. There is no try._ " Harvey grinned, but Donna saw the slight, fake pull in it -- he was misdirecting from something.

"So you two parted as you met?" she asked. "Despite all the politics?"

Harvey kept silent.

"Hey, bossman."

"She's getting married," Harvey said quietly.

Donna tilted her head. "Not to you."

"No. Some guy." He waved a hand. "Doesn't matter. Good for her, right?" he said, as his steak arrived.

"Sure," Donna said, and changed the subject, because the art of being a good friend was knowing when _not_ to press till it hurt.


	5. Chapter 5

Like any good high-level Executive Assistant, Donna had a network of connections within Pearson Hardman and at other firms and various business offices, carefully built over years of information exchanges and scheduling calls. That kind of thing couldn't be forced, she'd found; you had to grow them organically, and she was very good at tending her contacts.

She made a mental note of offhand remarks Harvey would make, sometimes without even noticing he'd done it: that the pizza guy had been helping him out on heavy-load cases once in a while, sometimes not even his cases, and that the pizza guy liked Harvey's stir fry, that he was smart enough to be studying for the Bar without even having a degree. She could see why his dates thought the guy was a sometime boyfriend, considering she knew he came over to watch ball games or brought Harvey movies that hadn't yet hit the screen. It was a little cute, like a puppy bringing him a toy to play fetch with. Harvey seemed to like his latest stray, and he'd stopped looking tired all the time.

Donna's network of spies and her growing mental file labeled Pizza Guy collided one day when Annette, the events coordinator's admin over at Robertson Holding, called to ask her why Harvey had cancelled his RSVP for the networking dinner that night.

"I didn't call to cancel that," Donna said, perplexed.

"No, that's what's so weird. Mr. Specter called Robertson Jr. directly," Annette said. "Is he sick or something?"

"Harvey never gives such short notice," Donna answered, even though a little red light was flashing in her brain, reminding her that Harvey had said something about tonight...

"That's why I wanted to get the dirt. I mean, it's just a networking dinner, but Robertson Senior wanted to talk to him."

"Let me check on something, can I put you on hold?"

"Sure," Annette told her. Donna clicked off and sat back, thinking hard.

 _You look like today is a day you're going to eat some associates alive._

 _Worked late. Passing mood. I'm staying in tonight, I'll be fine._

 _Hot date?_

 _Hardly. Pizza guy, watching the Yankees choke, the usual._

Harvey had blown off Robertson Holding for his pizza guy.

Donna genuinely believed Harvey when he said he wasn't dating the guy. She might be the only one, but she knew Harvey, and she knew the signs of a) an impending mancrush and b) Harvey getting laid, and neither were in evidence. He had a friend, that was nice, and clearly Pizza Guy was good for him, some kind of platonic release valve.

She took the phone off hold.

"Annette, I'm so sorry, I _should_ have called. It looks like there was a scheduling mixup. Harvey's representing Pearson Hardman at a client's wedding, tonight's the rehearsal dinner. You know how picky some brides can be."

"Well, at least it's not a funeral or something," she said. "He make you dry-clean his tux?"

"No, I trained him out of that."

"Lucky for some," Annette said, laughing. "Talk to you later. We'll do drinks next week?"

"It's a date," Donna said, and hung up.

She met Pizza Guy for the first time not long after that, though she didn't know it was him. She really should have put two and two together, but she didn't think the guy would ever come to Harvey's office -- at least not during business hours. And Harvey's reaction wasn't that of a man to his friend or a lawyer to his client. He got a call and hurried out of the office, and a few minutes later security discreetly called Donna to say Mr. Specter was loitering in the lobby, and was he okay?

"He's meeting a client," she told them, and assured them everything was fine. She hoped at least the last part was true.

When Harvey reappeared with a young, confused-looking man in tow, she assumed it was his brother. She knew he had one, after all, and though she'd never seen a photo or anything she couldn't imagine who else would draw that kind of protective, defensive attitude out of Harvey. She didn't listen to their conversation, out of respect, even while she was _dying_ to know what was going on.

But Harvey did have an eleven o'clock with a really important client, so she tried to remind him discreetly.

He came out of his office, leaving the younger man on his couch with a notepad, and said, "The files -- "

She handed them to him.

"And the clauses -- "

"Flagged, you're welcome," she said.

"Great. Can you -- "

"I'll make sure he doesn't go anywhere," she answered smoothly.

"I'll be back in fifteen minutes," he said, which meant probably somewhere in the vicinity of thirty.

When he was gone, Donna swiveled in her chair to study the man on Harvey's couch, but the temptation to poke her nose in just a little was too great.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked, opening the door. He looked startled. "While you wait," she explained. "Coffee? Something to eat?"

"I'm -- I'm not a client," he stammered.

"I know," she replied, going for reassuring but apparently overshooting into scary, if his look was anything to go by. "I know everything," she explained. "You get used to it."

"I'm okay, thanks," he answered. Well, if he was a Specter, he had considerably better manners than big brother.

Harvey came back, dragging Rachel along, carrying paperwork.

"What's going on?" Donna asked in a hushed whisper, while Harvey sat and talked to the man inside.

"Top secret," Rachel replied.

"Rachel," Donna gave her a disapproving look.

"Sorry. Confidentiality," Rachel looked genuinely apologetic. "I know you're cooler than him, but he scares me way more than you do."

Donna considered this. Normally she'd be offended, but in matters of actual legal responsibility, she supposed it was fair. Rachel whisked the young man away, and Harvey gave Donna a look that said _don't ask._

If she'd known who Mike was, or if she'd known what Louis was planning, she would have interceded the next morning before Harvey and Mike could have an embarrassing encounter with Jessica. Her network, for once, failed her; Louis played it so close to the vest he didn't even tell Norma, who would have _run_ to Donna with the news that Louis thought Harvey was hiring a male prostitute.

Louis even did the accounting research himself. Only he and Jessica knew what he suspected. And Jessica -- a sign of her indulgence of Harvey, perhaps -- seemed unwilling to act until she found Mike sitting in Harvey's office in the middle of the day. So when Donna came in the next morning to find Harvey and Harvey's new shadow (wearing a hastily staple-tailored suit from Harvey's Junior Partner days) in his office, she assumed Harvey was in trouble because Harvey was always getting into trouble, rather than because the kid was laying trouble at his doorstep. Once they were dispatched to Jessica's office, she sat down and called Jessica's assistant, Joseph, to see if he could explain to her what was going on. He answered right around the same time Rachel came up to her desk.

"So Harvey's pitching this thing -- " Rachel stopped when Donna held up a finger because Joseph had answered.

"Hi Donna!"

"Joseph, do you know why Harvey's in trouble with Jessica?"

"He's not in trouble," Rachel mouthed at the same time Joseph said, "Yeah, there's some crazy finance stuff going on."

"Finance?" Donna asked Rachel.

"Yeah," Joseph answered, assuming it was aimed at him. Rachel frowned and shook her head. "Harvey's been cutting checks to pay for sex."

" _What?_ " Donna asked.

"What?" Rachel asked Donna. Donna held up her hand again.

"I guess there's this guy -- " Joseph began.

"Oh, no she _didn't_ ," Donna groaned to neither of them.

"Who didn't?" Rachel demanded.

"Is Louis involved in this?" Donna asked Joseph. Rachel shook her head.

"Yeah, he dug up the dirt. Though I don't know," Joseph continued, voice fading, probably craning his neck to see into Jessica's office. "The guy he's supposedly paying is doing a lot of the talking."

"I'm pretty sure Harvey did not hire a male prostitute," Donna said. Rachel's eyes widened.

"Hey, I just report the news," Joseph said, at the same time Rachel blurted "He's a consultant!"

Donna shushed Rachel. "Joseph, my darling, send me an email with the relevants? Okay." She hung up and turned back to Rachel. "What is going _on_ around here? Why hast thou forsaken me, Rachel?"

"What was that even _about?_ " Rachel asked.

"I'm not sure yet. I'll tell you when I figure it out. Tell me who the kid is and what's going on," Donna said.

"Okay, Harvey's pitching it this morning so he texted me the go-ahead to tell you," Rachel said. "The kid is Mike Ross. Harvey's hiring him as a legal consultant."

"What does Harvey need a consultant for?"

Rachel shrugged. "Picking up Kyle's slack? Anyway, he needs to get set up with -- "

" -- on it," Donna said, opening the secure server and the IT help-request window. "Paperwork, email account, server access -- does he need somewhere to sit?"

"God, probably, I didn't even think about that. Not with the associates though, Harvey specifically said to keep him away from them."

"Well, he's not getting an office as a rookie," Donna replied, punching in the relevant requests.

"Did you see his suit?" Rachel murmured.

"I know, declasse. I'll make him an appointment with Harvey's guy." Donna narrowed her eyes. "I think Louis accused Harvey's new consultant of being Harvey's new 'consultant', and Jessica's interrogating," she added.

"How do you always know everything?" Rachel asked.

"Fake it till you make it, kiddo," Donna replied. "Off to the daily grind with you. I'll take it from here."

 _Seeming_ to commit a crime was as bad as having committed it, at the level Harvey played, and Donna knew that. Still, she couldn't help but smile on the slightly frazzled looks she got when Mike and Harvey returned; it was her duty and pleasure to anticipate their needs, and once she'd impressed them with her preparedness, she felt it was probably permissible to listen in on the hushed conversation they were having in Harvey's office.

"....until you're familiar with the company," Harvey was saying. "You'll officially start after your Bar exam next week -- "

Holy crap, the kid hadn't even passed the Bar yet. This just kept getting weirder. Who was this guy?

"You talk to...your previous employers yet?" Harvey asked.

"Oh -- oh crap, no," Mike Ross answered, sounding panicked. "I'm on shift tonight!"

"Relax," Harvey reassured him. Donna turned to watch them curiously. "Go in, give your notice. You're not irreplaceable, you know. Even if it means I'm going to have to stop ordering fries from Rollo's."

She couldn't help herself; she just blurted it out, because all at once it hit her: who Mike was, why Harvey was acting like this, what Louis and Jessica had assumed.

"Oh my God!" she said over the intercom. "You're the _pizza guy!_ "

"Not now, Donna," Harvey snapped, turning to glare at her through the glass.

"You know I listen!" she protested, but she put the phone down.

When Mike emerged, he was of interest on a totally new level, from his barely-controlled hair and big blue eyes to the Converse high-tops he was wearing with his suit.

This was the Pizza Guy. The one real, honest, non-business-acquaintance friend Harvey had, the guy _everyone_ thought was sleeping with him. It made sense now: the way Harvey had treated him, the way he'd touched him reassuringly yesterday, the fuss that was being made. This was the guy with the super-brain, the photographic memory, the legal skill to help Harvey out without a degree or a license.

But he hadn't yet passed _Donna's_ stringent requirements, not just for an employee of Pearson Hardman but for a presence in Harvey's life.

"Hurt him," she said to Mike as he left that day, "or let him down, and I'll eat your liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti."

Mike gave her a long look, but when he opened his mouth he said, " _People will say we're in love_ ," totally nailing the Anthony Hopkins delivery of the line.

Donna burst into relieved laughter, loud enough that she knew Harvey was probably wondering what had happened.

So Mike was okay, in her book.

Which meant now she had to skin Louis alive. Well, there was nothing for it; Donna touched up her makeup, made sure her hair was perfect, and went to do war.


	6. Chapter 6

"Come in, Donna, of course," Louis said sarcastically, when she walked into his office without warning and sat down without asking for permission. "I wasn't doing anything vital, I'm only a partner in the firm."

Donna crossed her legs, sat back, and looked at him.

"Do you know how this building operates?" she asked, while Louis tried to pretend to be ignoring her. She had been pretend-ignored by the best, and didn't let it phase her.

"What, like the elevators?" he asked, after a while.

"Oh, the elevators..." she waved a hand gracefully. "The plumbing, the kitchen supplies, toilet paper, janitorial, trash. Food delivery. Security access."

"Am I supposed to care?"

"Not really. See, that's what I'm paid to do," she replied, leaning forward. "Worry about the building, I mean. Make sure there's soap in the bathroom. Call someone to come fix the kitchen sink."

"Is this going to become relevant to me at any point?" Louis asked impatiently.

"Well, I don't know, Louis. How relevant would you find it if janitorial stopped emptying your trash or cleaning your office?" she asked. "I mean, that's where I'd start."

"Start with what?"

"Then I'd move on to accidentally deactivating your keycard, so that you couldn't get into the building without being escorted up every day. _Then_ I'd probably tell janitorial not to replace the toilet paper on this floor...I hate to see associates suffer, but as long as they know you're to blame, they shouldn't be too angry at me. See, it's very unpleasant when someone else goes digging around in your departmental affairs, isn't it?" Donna asked.

Louis just stared at her.

"And if I found out that a Junior Partner was auditing a Senior Partner's expense account, especially _my_ Senior Partner's expense account, behind my back, getting his grubby -- little -- hands -- all over the files of someone I have been entrusted to care for, someone whose comforts I oversee..." she trailed off and smiled. "I would see to it that the person who made that mess had a very uncomfortable few weeks himself."

"Is this a threat?" Louis demanded.

"No. I just thought I'd share my thoughts with you. I have a lot of them and they're very interesting," Donna said, standing up. She leaned over his desk, forcing him to raise his head to maintain eye contact. "Come near Harvey's personal reputation again, Louis, and I'll start with janitorial and end by arranging for a stranger to kick you in the nuts at least once a day, every day, including weekends. _That's_ a threat."

She left, putting a little extra shake into her ass because she knew how much that frustrated Louis. When she was out of earshot, she sighed happily. That was so good she almost wanted a cigarette.

At the very least, Louis had known not to noise his suspicions around, so that he himself was all the damage control Donna needed to do -- no quashing the associates or bullying the other admins. Joseph was the soul of discretion, and wouldn't talk; Rachel knew better than to cross Donna or anyone under her care.

Kyle, of course, did not, but Kyle knew next to nothing. In fact, for a week solid Kyle pestered her with questions about Mike: why Harvey wanted a consultant, what Mike's qualifications were, who he even was, whether he would be able to take some of the really boring workload off Kyle's plate. Donna took it in turns to ignore and mock him. She wasn't trying to be cruel, she was just training him, like any other associate, to have a thick skin. Kyle abused his rank as Harvey's associate constantly, and any abuse he received in return was only fair payback.

Harvey was on edge that week, or rather he was perfectly calm right up until the day Mike was supposed to start taking the Bar, and then he was subtly, unconsciously anxious, slightly tempermental, a little too quick to answer sharply. Kyle didn't notice, and nobody else did either, but Donna knew that for Harvey this was practically a panic. The second day wasn't any better.

"I am about to do the nicest thing anyone ever did for another person," she said, walking into Harvey's office just after lunch on Mike's second day at the Bar. "I'm going to make you look like a decent, caring human being."

He gave her a look of horror. "Why would you do that?"

She laid a slip of paper on his desk. "That's your reservation confirmation for the motor club for this afternoon. Your schedule's clear."

Harvey looked down at the slip. "The Tesla?"

"I hear it's all the rage these days."

"How did you get the Tesla?"

She smiled. "I was saving it for your birthday. Go impress your pizza guy."

"Consultant," he corrected. He'd been doing that all week, every time she mentioned the pizza guy (it felt too weird calling him by name; he'd been Pizza Guy way too long).

"So fetch his weary little butt, shove some food in him, give him the post-Bar _remember where you came from_ lecture, and make sure he wears the chalk-stripe tomorrow."

"I sent him a text," Harvey said.

"You're truly a giver, Harvey," she told him. "Go on. You have enough time to take it for a spin first if you want."

Harvey very carefully did not run out of the office, but he did walk a lot faster than he otherwise might have.


	7. Chapter 7

The thing about Mike was that, while being Harvey's opposite in nearly every possible way, he had the same effect on people.

Harvey's confidence, his swagger and the talent to back it up, tended to draw people to him even if they didn't want to go. Louis, for all his loathing and envy, still spent an undue amount of time thinking about him. Jessica, who Harvey once told Donna had kicked his ass through law school, was secretly fond of him and her anger when he screwed up had more to do with wanting to see her bright boy do well than the actual screwup involved. Donna saw through all that crap, but she liked Harvey too, because he was ethical and good to her and kind of a dork when nobody was looking.

Watching Mike in those first shaky weeks of his employment with Pearson Hardman, she saw that he was directly the opposite -- but he still had that pull. He was unorthodox and sometimes immature, which should have driven Louis up the wall, but he was so quick and insistent about it that Louis would end up just standing there with a baffled look on his face while Mike did basically whatever the hell he wanted.

Harvey had cut Mike a check for fifty grand without batting an eye, and when Donna had held up the receipt with a question on her face, a few days later, Harvey had said, "His grandmother's sick" like that was the kind of reason _Harvey Specter_ would ever give for anything.

But it was the way Mike handled Kyle that first baffled and then pleased her. Mike was kind, he was a kind person, and he was a little uncertain. It should have made Kyle predatory, but instead...

"I need to file a subpoena," Mike told her one day, that first week. Donna looked up at him.

"And?" she prompted. Mike looked reluctant.

"I don't know how," he admitted.

"Aww," she said. "Mike, that's what associates are for," she added, picking up her phone. "Kyle? Mmhm. A moment?"

Kyle, eagerly attending when summoned, looked annoyed when he arrived and Harvey was nowhere in sight.

"Mike needs you to file this subpoena," Donna said, handing him the paperwork. "Chop chop, little man."

"Why?" Kyle asked, looking back and forth between them.

"Because you are a lowly associate," Donna informed him.

And then Mike made what she thought was a huge tactical error.

He smiled at Kyle and said, "Please?"

It should have been a nail in his coffin with Kyle, but instead the other man gave Mike an oddly eager look.

"No problem," he said, and hurried off. Donna gave Mike a _did you just really...?_ look, but Mike was already shuffling through other paperwork.

And then, for the love of Christ, when Kyle came back looking for Mike, who was in Harvey's office for some kind of strategy meeting, Mike actually ditched Harvey, stepped out, and said, "All done?"

Kyle held out the confirmation paperwork mutely and turned to go.

"Hey!" Mike called. Kyle stiffened. "Thanks. How's your caseload?"

Donna watched, fascinated.

"Nothing I can't handle," Kyle answered defensively.

"Awesome. So you're free tonight, right?" Mike asked, and when Kyle seemed ready to accept more work, Mike _smiled_ again. "You want to get a beer?"

Donna, Kyle, and Harvey -- who was standing behind Mike in the doorway, impatiently -- all stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"We can go over that waste of time bullshit brief Louis dumped on you," Mike added. Donna looked at Harvey, who looked back at her with a priceless expression, one she hadn't seen in years: the one that said he had no everloving clue what was going on.

"Sure," Kyle said finally.

"Great. Seven? Meet you at Requin?" which was a lawyer bar nearby, one very few Pearson Hardman lawyers went to because it was upscale but populated by ambulance-chasers, and thus a dive by association.

"Uh, okay," Kyle replied. And then _Kyle_ smiled, which was just weird, and walked off.

"What are you doing?" Donna asked Mike, because Harvey obviously wanted to know but would never ask.

" _I find your lack of faith disturbing_ ," Mike informed her. "Harvey, subpoena. I'll be in my cubicle if either of you need a guardian of peace and justice from the Old Republic."

He strolled away. They watched him go.

"You know how to pick them," Donna said.

"I'm beginning to wonder if I'm the one who picked," Harvey replied.

The incident seemed to unsettle them both, and it threw Kyle off his footing, but Donna couldn't deny it was _different_. No more than she could deny that this weird, polite kid Harvey had found was a pretty good lawyer, with a keen legal mind.

"He's keen," she said, over the roar of the bar where Lucille and a few of the other Stable Shelters execs had taken them after the case wrapped, days after Mike took Kyle out for drinks.

"He's what?" Harvey asked, leaning in. Lucille had been buying Harvey shots for about two hours, which Harvey had been drinking to drown the memory of Jessica handing him a chocolatini and making him drink it in front of everyone. (Donna liked chocolatinis, actually, but after Harvey had one she was forced to stick to whiskey just to remind him she was more badass than he was.)

"Keen," she repeated. "Michael. Pizza guy. He has a keen legal mind."

"That's your professional assessment, is it?" Harvey asked, amused.

"Your baby lawyer's growing up," she said in his ear. He nodded, acknowledging it. "Where is he tonight?"

"Harvey!" Lucille reappeared from the crowd before he could answer. "Boy, where's your drink?"

"Lucille, you're an intelligent, successful, compassionate woman," Harvey told her, "and I have no doubt you can drink me under the table. Have mercy."

"I didn't know you knew the meaning of the word," Lucille laughed. "What about those two high schoolers you had working on the case? They can drink your shots if you won't."

"Who?" Harvey asked.

"The associates. Blue-eyes and the other one."

"Mike and Kyle," Harvey nodded.

"Where are they?"

"Kyle's not allowed out of his playpen on school nights," Harvey said. "Mike had business elsewhere."

"Shot for the shark," Lucille said, leaning between them to get the bartender's attention. Harvey gave Donna a long-suffering look, downed the shot, and tipped it upside-down on the bar.

"Good man," Lucille declared, and went off to give someone else alcohol poisoning.

"Where is Mike, anyway?" Donna asked. "You didn't let him come?"

"Visiting the grandmother," Harvey said. "We're celebrating later. In fact I should be there now, he has the new Bond movie and I promised him ribs from Rollo's."

"Do me a favor, for my peace of mind? Skip the ribs. You're a little drunk, Harvey," she said.

"Just a little," he replied. "It's not my fault."

"Mike will be fine if you don't bring ribs. Get yourself home," she told him. "I'll make your excuses to Lucille."

He kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you."

"I'm telling my boyfriend you took liberties with me," she said.

"I'm telling mine you told me not to get ribs," Harvey said, and then a weird expression crossed his face.

Donna, taking pity (because whoa, this time she had _not_ seen the impending-mancrush signs and was caught off guard), gave him a gentle shove.

"Don't try to bluff the one person who actually doesn't think you're screwing the new kid," she said. Harvey gave her a salute and began pushing his way towards the door.

Donna set her empty glass down, ordered a chocolatini, and sipped it thoughtfully, eyes on the door Harvey had disappeared through. She knew that expression; it was the face Harvey made when he wanted something he couldn't have and had just realized Donna knew all about it.

Well. Good for Mike. She just hoped it wouldn't be the Oblivious ADA thing all over again.

Whatever had happened the night of the Bond film (not sex, Donna would know), Mike seemed more confident after that. He'd never lacked bravado, but bravado was only skin-deep, and she watched with satisfaction as Mike settled into himself, found his footing, and began making a place where he fit at the firm. Queen of her little domain, Donna watched with benevolent approval.


	8. Chapter 8

Donna agreed with Mike's assessment of Travis Tanner as a big mouth attached to a little dick by the tattered remains of what had once been a moral fiber. She also applauded Mike's imagination, because the best she'd come up with was _tennis-playing douchebag_.

So the Monday after Harvey destroyed Tanner, she expected him to have a spring in his step.

She hadn't expected that particular spring.

"Good morning," he said, smiling, briefcase swinging lightly.

Donna looked up from her computer, swiveled her chair to face him, and announced, "You had sex with Mike."

"You're fishing," he answered, passing her desk and heading for his office.

"I'm deducing!" she insisted. "You did! You nailed the pizza boy."

"Oh yes, Sherlock?" he asked, walking into his office. She got up and followed him in. "Hey! Lawyer in here, lawyer's lovely but nosy assistant out there."

"You only talk in the third person like Jessica when you're hiding something," she said smugly, settling herself in the chair across the desk from him. He scowled and opened his briefcase, blocking her, so she stood up again. "Deduction. Part one -- "

"Oh, spare me."

"You partied at Rollo's with Mike on Friday night," she continued blithely, crossing to his record collection. "And you brought Kyle, I know because Kyle was bragging this morning about this great pizza place 'he' found."

"Well, there goes the neighborhood," Harvey muttered.

"Oh, relax, he's not going to tell anyone where it is. He's too busy crowing about it," she said, flipping through his records. "Part two, you were drinking, because you were celebrating and there's no reason not to just get take-out unless you're drinking."

"Your logic is flimsy," he answered.

"Also Kyle mentioned his hangover. Part three, you and Mike probably went back to your place, because you guys do that, and you've been irrationally jealous of Kyle lately," she continued, taking down an album and studying it.

"Stop touching my stuff."

"You wouldn't be deflecting if I wasn't on the right track."

Harvey settled into his seat with a sigh, but he didn't interrupt again. Donna drifted over to the turntable, placing the record gently on it.

"Finally, you have the indescribable air you always get when you've been having sex all weekend -- "

"I don't have an air."

"Oh, you're cute, but you really do," she replied. "You wouldn't have picked up anyone from Rollo's because you wouldn't jeopardize your access to the best pizza in Manhattan." She turned, pointing at him with the album sleeve. "You definitely didn't bed Kyle. So you went home with Mike and you flirted like you always do, and then one of you went one step too far..."

She delicately lifted the needle and set it on the record. Brassy horns blared out.

 _Say it's all right (it's all right), say it's all right (it's all right) -- it's all right, have a good time, 'cause it's all right..._

Donna did a little stepping, putting some bump in it, arms upraised, fingers snapping. Harvey just shook his head and grinned.

" _You got soul, and everybody know that it's all right..._ " she turned to him and matched his grin.

"Thank you for not choosing _Let's Get It On_ ," he said, and Donna swayed back to the chair.

"So are you going to tell me everything?" she asked, and Harvey gave her a raised eyebrow. "Well, not everything. Actually, on second thought, everything. He's so pretty, Harvey."

"What, I'm not?" he asked, tilting his head.

She was about to reply when the door opened and Mike put his head in. He took in Harvey, Donna across from him, the Impressions ( _Someday I'll find me someone, who will love and treat me right..._ ), and said, "Oh my God, you told her about us _already?_ "

Donna put both arms in the air. Harvey rubbed his forehead.

"No, but you just did," he said. Donna got out of her chair and patted Mike's head as she passed. When she was behind him, she mimed holding a martini glass and mouthed _We'll talk later_ at Harvey over Mike's shoulder.

"It's too early in the morning for Motown," Kyle complained as he walked past on his way to the fax machine.

"This is Chicago Soul, you philistine!" she called after him, and went to make reservations at the bistro for that evening. She was going to get the story out of him even if she had to get him very drunk first.


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn't as if life at Pearson Hardman had ever been bad. Compared to the DA's office it was great, and even compared to basically any other existence she could think of, it was a really good job, with people she liked and constant challenges to enjoy.

But after Mike came to work there, after he joined their litigious little band, something sparked in Harvey she'd never seen before. There had been some small thing missing in him, some loneliness that even Donna couldn't touch (possibly wouldn't want to; she didn't feel that way about Harvey, much as she loved him). Something Jessica hadn't touched either, for all Harvey's hero-worship of her when he was younger. It was so good to see.

She'd stopped by Rollo's on a Saturday night because they had a one-dollar-a-slice special if you brought canned goods for the local food pantry, and Donna would never let it be said that she didn't care about the less fortunate. She'd expected to see Junior, who waved at her through the service hatch, and thought she might catch Rooey, one of the chefs, who always slipped her a few extra garlic knots.

And she knew Mike and Harvey liked Rollo's. Of course Mike liked Rollo's, he'd worked there for years. And Harvey was a big fan of their ribs...

It was just, she never really expected to see them there. Usually because Harvey was also a big fan of having food delivered.

They were sitting in a booth on the far side of the dining room, a mostly-empty pitcher of beer and a half-eaten meal on the table. The lights were dim, but she could see Harvey's hand resting on Mike's thigh, Mike's nose pushed up against his temple. Harvey's expression was tolerant; Mike was kissing him, jaw, cheek, the edge of his ear, goofily affectionate.

They didn't do that at the office, too concerned with their privacy and the firm's uneasy reaction to office relationships. But Rollo's was safe, was their place, somewhere she had literally once given Harvey as a gift.

She watched as Harvey tipped Mike's chin up and kissed him briefly, then went back to his meal.

Oh, her boys. There was a little clench of happiness in her chest for them, because she knew enough of Mike's history now to want that anchor for him, the stability of Harvey's unbending, unmoving will; and she certainly knew enough about Harvey to want for him someone he could trust implicitly, someone who would never hurt him.

"Hey, Donna," Junior said, emerging from the back, distracting her from the way Harvey's hand was wandering up Mike's thigh. "Your weekday burdens are here."

"I saw," Donna tilted her head briefly at the boys. "How are you?"

"Doing well. Business is booming, tomatoes are cheap, life is good," Junior answered. "You?"

"Dominating all who defy me, as is my wont."

"Girl power," Junior drawled, picking up Donna's little box of canned goods and setting them on a stack of boxes behind her. "Dollar deal?"

"I think I'll get it to go. One slice of beef and one pepperoni."

"You got it. Rooey! Your favorite's here! Slice beef, slice pepp to go."

"For you, my love," Rooey called, and a paper bag appeared on the counter shortly, a little too large for just two slices of pie -- yep, there was a bag of garlic knots in there too.

Donna winked at him. She was between boyfriends at the moment, and considering the idea that a chef understood the unique constraints of a workday that didn't end at five.

"My heart belongs to Rooey," she called back, and he winked back and disappeared. While Junior rang her up, Donna took out a business card and wrote her cell number on the back. Junior watched, grinning, and said nothing, just wrapped it in an order slip labeled ROOEY and tossed it up with the rest.

"Why should Harvey get all the fun pizza guys?" she asked Junior.

"We deliver," Junior whispered, and they both laughed.


	10. Chapter 10

Donna had to admit, she was impressed with Harvey and Mike's discretion. She figured within a week of Mike going from best friend to boyfriend, everyone at Pearson Hardman would know.

But Mike had proved his chops as a lawyer in the short month he'd been with the firm, and Harvey had spent years keeping his personal life separate from his career. They seemed happy to keep it quiet, and there were no longing looks or secret smiles or hidden kisses (she would have heard). They were just...Mike and Harvey. Like they'd been since Mike was a 'pizza guy' footnote in Donna's immense mental filing cabinet.

Louis never quite gave up on the idea that Mike was being paid to do very private, very intimate consulting, but that didn't stop him from making demands on Mike's time, using his giant brain, and once, memorably, even taking him along to a hearing. And anyway who listened to Louis?

It was two years before Jessica found out. Or, Donna supposed, two years before Jessica had hard evidence, because she'd probably suspected and ignored it for a long time. When she was called to Jessica's office (Joseph sounding confused as he passed on the summons), Donna figured the game was up -- though why she hadn't called Harvey and Mike, who were actually the ones doing the fraternizing, was a little mysterious.

"Donna," Jessica said, sitting on the couch in her office, studying some files. "Thank you for coming. Have a seat."

Donna sat on the edge of a chair, composed herself in her best I'm Listening Very Closely pose, and nodded.

"I had a question about some HR paperwork you filed for Mike," Jessica said, offering her a copy of Mike's change-of-address form.

She knew she should have set up that fake residence for him, instead of leaving fumble-fingers to handle it himself.

"Is something out of order?" she asked.

"You tell me," Jessica said.

Donna thought about the weekend six months ago when Mike had begged her to help him supervise the movers Harvey had imperiously ordered (Mike was planning on getting some people together and offering them pizza to help him move; Harvey had said grownups hired movers). She thought about Harvey's condo, and how much fuller it had seemed with Mike's things in it, even if Mike's things amounted to a small pile of medium-sized boxes and a chair he couldn't be convinced to part with. She thought about Harvey, in jeans and a t-shirt, shifting around his books so that there was a place on the shelves for Mike's metric ton of cheap novels and textbooks.

She thought about the casual way Mike had kissed Harvey every time the two passed each other.

She waited for Jessica to make the next move.

"Mr. Ross has, for the past six months, listed a post office box as his home address," Jessica said.

"Mike's a private kind of person," Donna answered. Not even for Jessica Pearson was she going to out her boss and his boyfriend.

"You know, I considered that, but I don't think he's _that_ private," Jessica said. "Now, the two options that occurred to me were that he has some kind of addiction he's feeding, and he's been forced out of his home and is living in that nice office we gave him...or he's living with someone and doesn't want the firm to be aware of it. Someone whose address is already on file with HR." She fixed Donna with a hard gaze. "How long, Donna?"

Donna set the paper aside. "You're asking me to rat on my boss."

"I'm asking you if Mike Ross lied to me when he denied sleeping with Harvey the day we contracted him as a consultant."

"No," she said.

"You're certain?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

Donna tilted her head. "Because I know when it started."

"And that was?"

"With all due respect, and bearing in mind the anti-discrimination policy you wrote when you became Managing Partner...none of your business," Donna said slowly.

Jessica smiled.

"This isn't about two men," she said. "This is about my Senior Partner and the great experiment that was Ross Legal Consulting. Fraternization doesn't even apply here. Mike's not an employee."

"Then why the third degree?"

Jessica's smile widened a fraction. "I needed to be sure there was no hint of impropriety in Mike's hiring. Also," she added, standing up, "so that you would know I know."

Donna stood too, considered this. "You want me to give Harvey a ten minute warning?"

"Oh, give them both thirty to get their act together before I call them in here and skin them for trying to hide it from me," Jessica said. "Let Harvey prepare his opening statement."

"Mike's going to freak out."

"Good. I like to keep that one on his toes."

Donna matched Jessica's smile. "We should do this more often."

"End run around Harvey? Maybe. Doesn't do to let him get too complacent either."

The brief flash of panic in Harvey's eyes when Donna told him Jessica knew about Mike's _utterly lame_ attempt at hiding his cohabitation was a little bit funny. Just a little.


	11. Epilogue

Donna knew Mike had been taking law classes -- some online, testing out of others, and the quarters he took night classes Harvey was unusually cranky. She also knew about the Harvard deal before Harvey did, because Joseph had told her about making arrangements for the Dean to come down, and in return Donna had helped him get a really exclusive restaurant table for them. She knew what night it would happen, and prepared accordingly.

The day after Mike was recruited for Harvard, Mike and Harvey showed up together. Donna held up two Pearson Hardman branded folders, passing one to each.

"New brief?" Mike asked, chewing on a bagel.

"I keep telling Jessica -- " Harvey paused, because he'd opened his folder. "What...?"

"Chartered flights to and from Logan, Friday and Sunday nights, starting in January," she said, leaning back, giving them her smuggest of smug looks. "Car service reservations in Boston, and a list of appropriate restaurants. I assume you don't need hotel recommendations," she added, lowering her voice to a sexy growl.

"These are -- " Mike looked confused, flipping through his folder.

"Housing suggestions near Harvard," she announced. "Maps of campus and environs, and recommendations for fun places to hang out that don't involve young law students drinking until they're convinced to have sex with each other."

They watched her warily.

"You really never did get used to me knowing everything, did you?" she asked Mike. He beamed and leaned way over her desk to give her a kiss.

"You are the best Donna I know," he declared.

"I'm not kissing you," Harvey informed her.

"Good, Mike already mussed my lipstick," she answered. "Run along and play, I have real work to do now."

"You good?" Harvey asked Mike, who shoved the rest of the bagel into his mouth and nodded. "Off with you."

Mike hurried down the hall towards his office, folder clutched tightly to his chest. They watched him go.

"I need another favor," Harvey said, turning back to her once Mike was out of earshot. Donna raised an eyebrow. "I need a ring."

"Harvey! This is so sudden!" she pressed a hand to her chest. "What will my boyfriend say?"

"You're _not funny_ ," he said urgently.

"Do you need a wedding planner, too?"

"No! I just..." he glanced over his shoulder.

"I get it," she laughed. "You don't want him to forget you while he's at Harvard."

"We're not getting married. It's a going-away present, that's all."

"You're afraid he's going to get swept up by some would-be lawyer in a pencil skirt," she accused. "Oooh, or a professor. He does have that 'rescue me, I'm a baby deer' look to him sometimes."

"Don't mock me. I want to give him something nice."

"Didn't you do that last night?"

"Donna!"

She delicately plucked a sheet of paper from her printer and offered it to him. "A list of reputable jewelers. Get him something simple in white or antiqued gold. No gems."

He looked down at it. "You're dying to help me pick it out, aren't you?"

"Not at all."

"Not even a little?"

"Harvey, be a big boy. Do you want me to help you pick out a ring for your beloved?"

Harvey narrowed his eyes. "Now I'm rethinking it."

Donna just waited. Harvey sighed.

"Donna, I will buy you dinner at the bistro if you help me pick out a ring for Mike."

"Was that so hard? Don't answer that. We have an appointment at the first place on the list at five. Oh, and tell Mike I'm not helping him move to Cambridge."

"I'm hiring movers," Harvey said.

"He's going to yell at you again."

"It's how we roll," he answered, disappearing into his office. Donna kept on smiling smugly all damn day.

She smiled even more smugly when the ring Harvey eventually picked out, aided by her gentle nudging, came in a set.

"Give him both," she said.

"Why?" Harvey asked, looking irritated.

"Because then he can give you one back."

The day Mike was inducted as Junior Partner -- actually during the little champagne get-together itself -- Donna snuck down to the office where a maintenance guy was scratching _Consultant_ off Mike's door and left an envelope on his desk. Inside was the name of the wedding planner she and Rooey had used, along with a hand-scribbled note: _Make an honest man out of him._

If they didn't make her Best Man after that, she thought, returning to her desk, there were going to be _words_. She hoped her tux still fit.

END

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Secret Life of Lawyers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8282516) by [Hebecious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hebecious/pseuds/Hebecious)




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